


in her aspect and her eyes

by Liviapenn



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Banter, Chromatic Character, F/M, Het, Literary References & Allusions, Meet-Cute, POV Spock, Pre-Canon, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-30
Updated: 2009-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviapenn/pseuds/Liviapenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elementary logic leads to an obvious conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in her aspect and her eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place pre-movie. I'm going with the theory that Uhura is a grad student while Kirk is an undergrad as an explanation for why she canonically has the rank of Lieutenant in the film. Thanks to pandarus for making, and fic_kitty for seconding, the prompt 'Spock/Uhura, library.' Although this doesn't take place in a library. ^_^ Also thanks to metron_ariston for audiencing and to harriet_spy and petronelle for beta comments. *G* All mistakes are, of course, mine.

The layout of the Old Downtown bookstore recommended to Spock by Admiral Hernandez was highly inefficient. Aisles dead-ended and looped back on themselves incomprehensibly, and the shelving units were mismatched, creating a disharmony of tone and sequence. At times it seemed that the sheer number of books contained within the small retail space had required more shelving units to be placed in the middle of already existing aisles, creating ever narrower spaces for Spock to edge through in pursuit of his goal. Narrowing his eyes, he did so, dubiously eyeing the occasional obstacle in the form of an unstable wooden step-stool or cardboard box containing an overflow of books that apparently had not been able to fit on the shelves.

Finally he managed to find and access the section of the store which contained poetry. It was at least theoretically organized by language, and then by the last name of the author. Crouching, Spock perused the first few shelves of English-language poetry more closely, reaching out for one volume in particular.

As he grasped it, someone on the other side of the shelf took the opportunity to pull several books from a high shelf. Since this shelf featured no dividing central partition, a chain reaction caused several heavy books to fall onto Spock's side of the aisle, striking his head and torso. After a brief, startled verbalization, he stood, staring through the narrow gap into a pair of wide, dark eyes.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry--!" The offending party quickly ducked around the shelf, wringing her hands. Spock blinked, straightening further as he recognized Cadet Uhura. She was out of uniform, wearing a short black skirt and cap-sleeved white blouse, her hair pulled back in a thick braid coiled on her head like a crown. "Commander Spock!" she said. Her eyes were wide, her attitude clearly remorseful, but she refrained from further emotional display, jaw set firmly as she waited for his response.

"Cadet Uhura," Spock said, then corrected himself; as of term's end, three weeks ago, Uhura was no longer an undergraduate. "_Lieutenant_ Uhura," he said, and noted that her mouth twitched in a reflexive smile, seemingly despite herself, before her look of concern reasserted itself.

"Sorry," she offered, mouth slewing sideways in a very human expression; the remorse was still there, yes, but she was also unconsciously inviting him to share in a humorous reaction to-- what, exactly? Spock wasn't sure.

He took a moment to review his physical condition. Although his head had been struck rather hard, and a spot on the small of his back where one particularly heavy volume had landed corner-first promised to become quite painful without treatment, he was able to put the physical discomfort out of his mind by concentrating briefly. "Do not concern yourself, Lieutenant," he said. "I have sustained no serious injury. I believe the appropriate saying is 'It could have happened to anyone.'"

"Oh," she said, relaxing, "good," and then her eyes dropped to the book in his hand. "_Byron?_"

Spock raised an eyebrow, pausing just long enough for a faint flush of color to rise in Lieutenant Uhura's cheeks. "Please explicate your query."

She tilted her head, sharpness entering her gaze. Spock had observed, many times, Uhura's impatience with, and dislike for, ignorance, whether sincere or disingenuous.

He had never before been the focus of that impatience. It was... provoking.

"Was there a particular reason you're buying a book of Byron's poems?" Lieutenant Uhura explicated as requested. She spoke slowly; not too slowly, but certainly approaching the border of deliberate insult with a control and technique that Spock found, despite himself, entirely impressive. Having spent much of his own adolescence experimenting with the most effective way to deliver withering insults without actually behaving inappropriately-- or at least, behaving so inappropriately as to invite criticism-- Spock had what he believed humans might term a 'soft spot' for Lieutenant Uhura's occasional moments of thinly disguised scorn.

"Do you perhaps mean," he responded in the same vein, "'Is it not _illogical_ to seek out a decaying, over-priced cellulose pulp copy of these poems, since the work itself could be freely accessed from any public data terminal, or even printed out on archival-quality media if so desired?' The answer," he continued, "is yes: it is entirely illogical. But as my purpose here is to acquire a gift _for_ a human, logic is-- for the moment-- not the dictator of my actions."

"_Dictator,_" Lieutenant Uhura said, raising her eyebrows. "That's a rather telling word, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Spock said. He was struck with a sudden, illogical awareness of the fact that he was standing in a dead-end aisle, with no available avenue of retreat, and moreover that he would be trapped here until Lieutenant Uhura chose to stand aside and allow him to pass.

"Who are you giving poetry to?" Lieutenant Uhura asked, her expression shifting again into one of humor. More than any other emotional expression, humor was the most difficult for Spock to comprehend, in terms of its root causes. It was always difficult to think of appropriate responses. Joy, sorrow, anger, lust-- these emotions, Spock felt, were inherently self-indulgent, and were therefore easily ignored. But humor demanded to be shared. Humor required an accomplice, and Spock was never sure how to respond to that implicit demand.

"That is a personal question, Lieutenant." Spock's fingers tightened on the paper-soft cover of the book he had selected.

"It was grammatically incorrect, too," Uhura said. "But, if it's too personal, I withdraw it." Her voice was heavy with implication, and Spock resisted the urge to object that one could certainly have many non-emotional, logical reasons to object to personal inquiries, but as Uhura had not made a direct statement to the contrary, he remained silent.

Leaning against the side of a convenient shelf, Uhura crossed one boot-clad ankle over another. "Instead, I'll offer a personal comment, if I may." Uhura's face was bright with what Spock suspected was mischief. She cast her eyes upwards, as if in recollection, though Spock knew from her performance in his classroom that she needed no such physical prompting in order to access her prodigious memory. "_Thy cheek is pale with thought, but not from woe,"_ she recited, _"And yet so lovely, that if Mirth could flush / Its rose of whiteness with the brightest blush / My heart would wish away that ruder glow._" She looked at Spock, directly into his eyes. "Sonnet to Genevra."

"_England! thy beauties are tame and domestic / To one who has roved o'er the mountains afar: / Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic! / The steep frowning glories of the dark Loch na Garr._" Spock answered, his back straightening reflexively, causing his quickly-forming bruises to twinge. His response admittedly owed more to instinct than to logic; still, it seemed to have been effective. Spock watched, quite fascinated, as Lieutenant Uhura's eyes went wide, then narrowed, very, very slowly. She was still smiling, white teeth exposed. For a moment she reminded Spock uncomfortably of an angry sehlat; they, too, went still before they crouched to tear your throat out with their fangs.

"So it's not for a girl, then," she said. The rate of her breathing, Spock noted, had increased by a factor of nearly twelve percent; she was approaching the same level of physical excitement that she had achieved at the beginning of their conversation, when she had been gripped by embarrassment and surprise. And yet, apart from the slightly quickened rise and fall of her chest, she now appeared as calm and implacable as a Vulcan.

Though no Vulcan would grin like that.

"My mother's age is fifty-six Human standard years," Spock replied. "By no definition could she be accurately termed a 'girl.'"

Uhura's eyes narrowed further. "But you said it was a gift for a human."

"Elementary logic leads to an obvious conclusion." Spock loaded the words with Vulcan superiority.

"But--" Uhura repeated, and Spock raised an eyebrow. "Oh," she said, and Spock watched it sink in. He was actually somewhat surprised that Lieutenant Uhura was not already aware of his mixed heritage; it had been the focus of much talk during his cadet years, and he had often been subject to inquiries on the matter. Inquiries that had been phrased both politely and... somewhat less politely. He had assumed that it remained public knowledge. It would seem, however, that Spock had been incorrect in that assumption, and clearly he had done Lieutenant Uhura a disservice by assuming she engaged in idle gossip. Interesting. "I beg your pardon," Uhura finally said, somewhat stiffly. "It's just that you've always been so _impeccably_ Vulcan."

"In your experience," Spock corrected her, and now it was Uhura's turn to raise her eyebrows, though she did not speak. "'In your experience,'" Spock clarified, "and from your perspective, I have been impeccably Vulcan. That is not the same as 'always.'"

"I see," Uhura said.

"I would further venture that to someone of your... analytical skills, it would seem to go without saying that no accurate hypothesis regarding the likelihood-- or unlikelihood-- of future events, could be based on such limited evidence."

Uhura cocked her head sharply, and Spock wondered if his statement had been too abstract. But then Uhura smiled again, slowly, and this time the wry humor in her expression definitely contained an invitation; one phrased, to extend the metaphor, in the most insistent terms.

"I see," Uhura said again. "That is-- I think I see." She lifted a hand, stroking it up and down her bare arm, perhaps unconsciously... And perhaps, Spock thought, it would not have seemed a significant gesture to an observer unaware of Lieutenant Uhura's usual steely control over her outward appearance and demeanor. "Well," she said. "I'll let you get on with your errand. And I'll keep my eyes open. For further evidence of your... lack of impeccability."

With another wry smile, Uhura uncrossed her ankles and stood aside, allowing Spock enough room to pass by. Spock nodded once in acknowledgment, and took the offered opportunity.

"By the way," she added as he made his way down the aisle, "since I'm now a grad student? Feel free to call me Nyota. When the situation is appropriate."

Spock stopped. He looked carefully over his shoulder. Uhura had already turned her back to him. She was currently perusing the shelves, running her finger along the row of mismatched and variegated volumes.

"Might I ask for an example of such a situation?"

"Oh, Commander Spock," Uhura said lightly, "I'm sure a little elementary logic would lead you to an obvious conclusion. If you just put some thought into it."

"I see," Spock said after a moment. "That is-- I think I see."

Without further comment, Spock turned and made his way through the bookstore's twisting aisles to the front of the shop. He paid for the book, politely refused the proprietor's offer to gift-wrap it, and left the shop with the book in a small bag, tucked securely under his arm.

_Impeccability_, Spock thought as he crossed the street, making his way towards the public transit stop where he could wait for the shuttle bus back to Academy grounds. She had used the word twice in quick succession, and it was notably uncharacteristic for Lieutenant Uhura to employ unnecessary redundancy. Impeccable, from the Latin _impeccabilis_, _in_ _peccare_, incapable of... sin. A somewhat outmoded concept. But not a totally meaningless one, even to a Vulcan.

Unlike many humans, Spock had never cultivated a talent for self-delusion. He could not therefore fool himself into believing, even for a moment, that Lieutenant Uhura could possibly be unfamiliar with the etymology of the word she had used. Or even that she had spoken carelessly, without thought for the implications of her chosen term. Not "perfect," not "textbook," not "irreproachable," but--

Nyota, he thought. That _Nyota_ could possibly be-- unfamiliar-- He stumbled slightly, boarding the shuttle, and took his seat, avoiding the gaze of the other passengers. He could already feel the press of logic, leading him on. To the conclusion that Nyota had already reasoned out. The _obvious_ conclusion.

It had not, Spock thought, been obvious to him. He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the sweeping arch of Nyota's neck. The slightly protruding knot of bone at the top of her spine as she had turned her back to him. The way that the dim gold glow of the shop's interior lighting had created tiny gilded crescents in the tight curves and coils of her braided hair.

The shuttle ride would take at least fifteen minutes. Settling back in his seat, Spock set himself a thought experiment, theorizing on the elements required to create Nyota's hypothetical 'appropriate situation.'

He only missed his shuttle stop by two stops.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional author's note: Spock being familiar with Byron, and associating his poetry specifically with Uhura? Yeah, [that's canon](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6HUNeUq9yg).


End file.
